MY FATHER WAS A king and the son of kings.

MY FATHER WAS A king and the son of kings.

I am a child shaped in beeswax.

IT’S NOT THAT I HATE MY THERAPIST.

Bryce Quinlan sat in a chamber so far beneath the mountain above that daylight must have been a myth to the creatures who dwelled there.

Conscription Day is always the deadliest.

I can’t wait to see Fiona at Hoopla/various gay prides this year. 🫶🏼 #TheTraitors

I wonder if this was filmed before or after #CelebrityTraitors?

They all want to be a traitor this time around!

Ready for #Traitors

#SpotifyWrapped2025

My soundtrack.

#2025BestNine

I went places. I took selfies.

A Year In Sport - 2025

Cycle, Hike, Walk, Ice Skate.

Early on a Sunday, after first Mass in Clonegal, my father, instead of taking me home, drives deep into Wexford towards the coast where my mother’s people came from.

Marley was dead: to begin with.

Cora watches as the letters form, each one emerging like some magical and extraordinary thing from the nib of the registrar’s pen as it moves across the page.

Cora watches as the letters form, each one emerging like some magical and extraordinary thing from the nib of the registrar’s pen as it moves across the page.

In October there were yellow trees.

In an ideal world, I would be spending my fortieth birthday in a bar overlooking Bondi Beach, a beer in my left hand, a woman I love by my right, while friends tease me about my receding hairline.

When I was 12 years old, I was buried alive within the ground of a construction site.

Maybe it was that Cyrus had done the wrong drugs in the right order, or the right drugs in the wrong order, but when God finally spoke back to him after 27 years of silence, what Cyrus wanted more than anything else was a do-over.

I dreamed that I dreamed about the musty grey soil of the island and the sweet perfume it emits after rainfall, a double remove from a place I will never visit again.

The first thing I do when I arrive on the island is changed my name.

Sorry to trouble you was how the note began, which is such a great opener.

He wasn’t much to look at.

London to Paris, 2025.

A grove of bamboo trees, thick in their numbers, and dark clusters of thin, hardy cane, growing in clumps, creating circular spaces between them, hollowed out by God.

Eight hours into his surveillance detention route Sam’s grip on the steering wheel loosened and his pulse began to slow.

Because he had enjoyed almost every advantage since birth, one of the few privileges denied to Benjamin Rask was that of a heroic rise: his was not a story of resilience and perseverance or the tale of an unbreakable will forging a golden destiny for itself out of little more than dross.

🌸🌸🌸